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Sunday, April 10, 2011

Fw: So who is it?



The people who smoke
The people who drink soda pop, beer, and coffee
The people who eat fast food and chew gum
They are the persons
credited with the sloppy job
of destroying the roadways of America
They, especially the smokers and drinkers
who throw plastic, metal, and aluminum
from their vehicles, aiming at every tree
and roadway
Then there are those who have tires that are
good for recycling but they are too lazy and slovenly
to bother to transport them to the centers
instead they leave the job to those who appreciate
the natural beauty, while it lasts
America, once was beautiful one or two lane roads
that rambled through little hamlets, each with their own
Those stops are almost all gone
Now there are roads wide enough to see nothing but
and more macadam
You no longer see the small shops
decorated with the personality of the purveyor of goods
The small eateries with Mom and Pop behind the counter
The variety store with little nicknacks made by local artisans
Everything is the same
You ride down the road
with only the destination in mind
No longer the distractions of the communities on the way
Stretches of road
and more road
the drone of the tires
nothing to see
nothing to look at
nothing along the way
to change the view
all the same
destination bound
no opportunity to segue into another world
no sight of the people near where you travel
the lonely open road
with nothing but the destination
and the trash strewn along the way
the new view of America
macadam, weeds, maybe trees
the flying plastic bags
the dead tires
broken chairs
torn shirts
shattered buckets
an old couch
another dead tire
bottles, green and clear
shiny aluminum cans, crushed and ripped
broken brown bottles, some still holding beer
the new view of America
some roadways have billboards
and motels
but you never see these things from the road
you must turn off, miles to the left or right
of the direction you are pointed in
travel some more out of the way
way away from where you are going
to get lost along the way
no direct route back to the direction you were pointed
more driving
more gas
more trash
all along the way
to where you are going
with nothing to see along the way
but what people have discarded another day
the past is all you see
what people did
what people left
for you to see along the way
in the direction you are pointed
they, whomever they are,
have left you macadam, and mayhem
to amuse you along the way
on the new roads of America
that go to where you are going
with nothing to see along the way
but the trash of someones yesterday

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